Dan's method of talking and listing the different areas did actually seem to help. It gave him something to latch on to, so he wasn't thinking directly about too much all at once.
They reached the bar, and it wasn't really the kind of bar he'd have expected to find in space. It wasn't very Star Trek. It wasn't exactly Wetherspoons either, but he'd been in some fucking weird 'trendy' London bars by now. It would have been hard to throw him.
"Alright, cheers," he nodded, feeling only marginally guilty that he'd dragged a non-drinker along to a bar just because he felt like his brain might melt out of his ears without a strong drink. But he shrugged the feeling off, and went to see what was on offer behind the doors.
More choice than he could have anticpated. It seemed like a whiskey kind of a day, and there was plenty on offer. He went predictable with the bottle of Bells, because a tiny shred of familiarity felt oddly comforting at that exact moment. He found a glass and poured himself a decent enough measure.